What I Call Life
by Half Demon Alchemist
Summary: Alfred F. Jones always spent his weekends partying, wondering if he'd ever find someone that caught his interest. However, one wild Saturday night Alfred finds someone he had never expected to see again, let alone at a strip club.


**I hope you enjoy this story which is inspired by What Would You Do by Bastille. Review please!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers **

**_What I Call Life_**

You see, it wasn't unusual for Alfred F. Jones to be at a place like this on a Saturday night. Sometimes nights like these made great stories, although he wondered who would ever listen to his tales of his late nights.

This Saturday night however, Alfred was at a particularly wild party. The girls were barely dressed, and their cleavage was visible for all to see. The boys were chugging beer as fast as they could, hooting and hollering for someone else to take them on in a drinking contest. People were making out in the corner, and couples were grinding against each other on the dance floor.

Others were taking shots off of a pretty girl's body across the bar countertop, and one particularly daring girl was dancing on the tabletop. Now, it wasn't uncommon for Alfred to be seen in a place like this, but it didn't mean he always liked it.

The music was loud and repetitive, all songs about sex. It blasted from speakers around the room, and Alfred briefly wondered what he was doing at a club like this anyway. Oh that's right, it's because he didn't have anything else to do. In all his twenty-two years, he had never had a serious relationship.

Some people thought that was odd, that someone as handsome and heroic as Alfred wasn't in a relationship, and Alfred knew that if he wanted a boyfriend or girlfriend, he could easily get one. But why would he go out with someone he wasn't interested in? No one quite stuck his fancy, so he'd just wait until someone interesting came along.

Blue eyes watched as another guest of the party poured themselves a drink in their drunken state pouring too much. The clear liquid spilled over the edges of the shot glass, and it overflowed onto the counter.

Looking around, the blond saw five or six strippers dancing around in revealing attire, trying to work for a buck. Fake smiles stretched across their lips as they accepted money from drunken horny men. The stoppers were all female, except for one blond boy. Curious, Alfred walked closer to the male striper.

The boy looked around to be his age -maybe a year or two older- and had piercing eyes the color of shattered emeralds and shards of peridot. But there was something about this guy, that Alfred couldn't quite put his finger on. That was, until he saw the other male's massive eyebrows.

"Holy shit." He breathed, closing the distance between him and the stripper and wrapping his hand around the small wrist, pulling him away from the crowd.

"Excuse me! Sir, what the hell do you think you're doing?" The stripper shrieked angrily in a thick British accent, trying to loosen the grip Alfred had on his arm, but to no avail.

Pushing open the door, Alfred pulled them both outside. "Arthur Kirkland, is that you?" Alfred asked as he released the shorter boy's wrist.

The stri- Arthur looked horrified and an angry blush consumed his pale cheeks. "How do you know my name?" He asked in return, before he took a glance at the bespectacled blond's face. "Oh bloody hell, Alfred Jones, is that you?"

Alfred nodded, and a silence enveloped them. Both wanted to ask so many questions about what was new in their lives and how they were doing and every other possible question that entered their minds. Alfred noted that Arthur had turned out quite good looking. His bright green eyes still shined, although there was a certain sadness to them that hadn't been there years ago.

He and Arthur had met in junior high. And while Alfred and Arthur hadn't been best friends, they had been rather close, and Alfred dared to say he had had a rather large crush on the Brit. But he had known at the time that Arthur hadn't had a great home life (although Arthur would never speak a word about it, the bruises spoke loud enough) and then one day Arthur hadn't come to school again, and Alfred hadn't seen him since.

Now, Alfred wanted to give the other boy a hug and ask him about his life. Why had he stopped coming to school? Did he ever accomplish his goal of going back to England? There was an endless list of questions he wanted to ask, but the question that fell from his lips was not what he had meant to ask at all.

"Why're you up there dancing for cash?"

Arthur looked as if he had just gotten slapped, and Alfred immediately regretted what he said, although he didn't brush the question off. He wanted to know. Why was someone as beautiful and intelligent as Arthur up there dancing for some petty cash?

Alfred paused before adding, "I guess a whole lot's changed since I've seen you the last."

The green-eyed male paused before clenching his jaw tightly and speaking. "What would you do if your brother was at home, crying all alone on the bedroom floor 'cause he's hungry and the only way to feed him is to sleep with a man for a little bit of money?"

Alfred wanted to reply, he wanted to say that it wasn't Arthur's responsibility to take care of his brother, before thinking of his own brother, Matthew. Matthew was such a sweet boy, Alfred was positive that he would do anything to make sure Mattie had a full meal and a happy life, even if it mean degrading himself.

But he remained silent, and Arthur continued. "Our dad's gone in and out of lock down, I haven't got a job now and he's just smoking rock now."

Blue eyes widened. Oh. He hadn't know that their father wasn't in the picture, nor that said dad was doing drugs. Was this job all Arthur had? The American opened his mouth, wanting to speak, wanting to reply to the boy in front of him who's eyes burned with furious tears.

"So for you, this is just a good time. But for me, this is what I call life."

Alfred's mouth moved and words spilled out without his permission. "You aren't the only one with a brother, that's no excuse to be living all crazy!"

Really, that wasn't what he wanted to say at all. He wanted to apologize for the life Arthur had to lead, and mostly he was burning with jealousy. Sure, he wasn't anything to Arthur but an old classmate, but once Arthur had been someone very special to him, and it killed him to know that other people were staring and touching places on Arthur's body he hadn't even dreamed of.

Although Alfred spoke harsh words, Arthur did not back down. He stared Alfred square in the eye before continuing. "Everyday I wake up, hoping to die."

Now it was Alfred who felt as if he had just been slapped. Was this really how Arthur felt? Once again, he wanted to speak out, but Arthur cut him off. "Now my brother is gonna know about pain, because he and I ran away so my father couldn't rape us. Before I was a teenager, I done been through more shit than you can even relate to."

Neither blond could figure out why Arthur was telling him all this. Maybe to defend his pride, maybe to justify his actions. Or maybe he simply needed someone to understand, someone to talk to.

Alfred's heart was pounding rapidly. Arthur's father had really been like that? Was that why Arthur had stopped coming to school? Because he ran away? Was he the only one taking care of his brother? Questions consumed his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to ask a single one, instead just listening to Arthur continue to speak.

"Well Alfred? What would you do if Matthew was at home, crying all alone on the bedroom floor cause he's hungry and the only way to feed him is to sleep with a many for a little bit of money?" Arthur's eyes shined with tears that he refused to let fall. "What would you do?"

"I-uh... I..."

The twenty-two year old couldn't manage to choke out the words. In all his life, he had never imagined having to do something like prostitution or stripping for fun, let alone to survive. Did Arthur hate himself because of this? Did he hate himself for having to do such sleazy things like having sex for cash just so he could afford to put a meal on the table for his brother?

Taking another look at the shorter male, Alfred wondered how he hadn't noticed before. Arthur's barely covered body was thin and his ribcage was visible through his pale skin. His hip bones protruded, and his eyes were framed by dark circles. Small bruises marred the Brit's flesh, and bite marks embroidered the skin on his neck.

What would he do in Arthur's position?

He'd get off his feet and stop making tired excuses, right? He wouldn't resort to being a stripper, he'd go out and find a real job. Did Arthur like this? Did he like living like this? Stripping and sleeping around for money, did he find it enjoyable? Alfred was sure he wouldn't make tired excuses like this.

But with another glance at Arthur, Alfred took everything back. The green-eyed male was wiping furiously at his cheeks, trying to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. How could he have ever thought Arthur wanted to live this way?

"Let me come home with you." The words fell from his lips quickly and without warning, and he blushed at the implication.

Arthur looked shocked, horrified and furious all at once. "How dare you?! I can't believe that you of all people, would say that to me at a time like this!"

Alfred lifted his hands in defense, realizing that perhaps that wasn't the best way to phrase his sentence with Arthur's line of work being what it was "I mean, I want to see your house, okay? We haven't seen each other since junior high, so I'd like to be able to talk to you some more, I promise! I swear that's it, no other implication! Hero's honor!"

The emerald-eyed stripper pondered this request for a moment before nodding with a sigh. "I suppose so, I'm getting off work soon anyway. But I must warn you, it isn't much."

"Don't worry about it! I'm sure it's fine!"

* * *

><p>Alfred realized that Arthur really hadn't been kidding when he said it wasn't much. It was a crappy apartment in the shadiest, sketchiest area in the whole city it was known for being full of drug dealers and rapists. The classiest place around was the gas station up the street.<p>

The apartment complex Arthur lived in was practically falling apart, and as Arthur opened the door Alfred wasn't even sure if it locked. Stepping inside, Alfred was surprised to find it was extremely tidy. Bare, but tidy.

After removing their coats and hanging them on the hook by the door, Alfred looked around, his blue eye's scanning the room. It really, really wasn't much. Barely enough to scrape by with. The sound of footsteps made him look away from the cheap ramen noodles sitting on the counter, and he looked over to see a small blond boy with blue eyes and rather large eyebrows.

"Peter, what are you doing up at this hour?" Arthur asked, a soothing, caring tone in his voice as he looked at his younger brother.

"I couldn't sleep. Why're you home so early?" Peter mover closer to Arthur, staring up at him with big blue eyes. "You usually don't come home till late." He looked over at Alfred "and who's he? Is he your friend?"

"I got off work a little earlier tonight, and yes this is Alfred, he's a friend of mine from junior high. Peter, did you do your homework?"

Peter made a face, as if he smelt something sour. "Homework is gross, I don't wanna do it. Besides, I don't get how to do it." He paused again, before looking down at his feet and speaking again "I don't wanna go to school anyway. The other kids are mean and stupid."

Arthur sighed, and Alfred watched in amazement. Did Arthur take care of Peter like this everyday?

"Peter, I'll help you with your homework tomorrow, alright? And I know that other kids are mean, but you're brave enough to continue going, aren't you? I know you can do it." Arthur whispered other sweet words of encouragement, placing a hand on his younger brother's head, ruffling his hair.

"But you didn't finish junior high, so why do I have to?" Peter cried in irritation, and Arthur's green eyes widened before continuing.

Alfred had never known that Arthur hadn't even been able to finish junior high. He seemed so wise and intelligent, but if Arthur really had run away, then it made sense. A runaway wouldn't be able to go to school.

"You need to get a good education, otherwise you'll live like this your entire life. Don't worry Peter, we'll talk more about this tomorrow. Now go to bed."

"But I'm hungry! Arthur, I'm hungry! And I keep having nightmares 'bout daddy. Will you read me a bedtime story?"

Arthur moved over to the fridge, pulling open the door. It was almost as if he was so involved with making sure his brother was safe and happy that he had completely forgotten Alfred was even there. The inside of the fridge had few contents, but after a few moments he managed to find something edible.

He placed it in the old and worn microwave, setting the correct time. "Yes Peter, I'll read you a bedtime story. And remember, we're safe from dad here, you don't have to worry anymore."

Peter nodded in reply.

Nearly a half hour later, Arthur sat alongside him on the couch. "My apologizes for making you wait so long."

Normally, Alfred would have bitched about how boring it was waiting, but he couldn't. Arthur was doing the best he could, and Alfred couldn't dare complain. So instead he just said "nah man, don't worry about it."

Arthur still appeared to feel guilty, and his cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment "Alfred, if you don't mind... Please ignore what Peter said earlier. About not finishing school and all that."

"Really, don't worry about it." He took a deep breath, locking eyes with Arthur before continuing "and actually, I wanted to apologize." Suddenly sheepish, he rubbed the back of his head with his hand "for giving you all the crap about your job earlier. That really wasn't cool of me, and I get it. You're doing the best you can to support and raise Peter by yourself." He gave short chuckle "that's really cool of you, man."

"Really, it's nothing. This is what I call life. But now that you understand, I want to know your answer to my question earlier." Arthur looked him straight in the eye once again before repeating the question he had asked earlier that evening. "What would you do if your brother was at home crying all alone on the bedroom floor, cause he's hungry and the only way to feed him was to sleep with a man for a little bit of money?"

"Earlier, after you asked that question, I thought to myself 'well if I was in Arthur's situation, I'd get off my feet and stop making tired excuses' but after seeing the way you live, I know it's not that easy. So really, if it meant the happiness and safety of Mattie, I'd probably do exactly what you're doing."

A small, barely noticeable smile graced Arthur's face "I see."

The spent the rest of the evening catching up with each other, telling each other all the juicy details of the past years of their lives and everything that had happened over the years. Arthur told some details of his first job, how he got by after running away by sleeping with older men who were into young boys. Alfred admitted how devastated he was when Arthur never showed up at school again.

Later that night, during one of the many jokes they had been telling, Alfred was laughing as he said, "ya know, you're pretty cool. I can totally see why I had a crush on you back in junior high."

Arthur immediately turned a bright red color "y-you did?" He squeaked, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Curious why Arthur was reacting that way, Alfred continued. "Yeah man, I had a huge crush on you back then, I thought you were just the best damn thing to ever exist. I remember how heartbroken I was when you never came back to school." The American blushed at his own words, recalling just how much he had liked Arthur.

The Brit looked up from his lap, his cheeks a dark red color and his eyes sparkling with some unknown emotion. Arthur cleared his throat before speaking "if it makes you feel better, I had the most enormous crush on you." His voice got quieter as he admitted, "you're actually the reason I stuck around as long as I did."

And just like that, Alfred's heart was racing.

_End_

**NOTE: if you'd like me to continue this story or if you like this ending, please take four seconds to tell me! Thank you! Love you!**


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